Mark of the Beast, Primal Instinct
by chinesefirethorn
Summary: AU A story of fantasy, strange creatures and finding happiness in unexpected ways. This is an exploration of LeeGaaraness in one of those strange worlds known as AUs.
1. There is a beginning

Disclaimer/AN: This story is based on an RP but the main plot and its development are mine. The main characters as well as some people imported from Naruto (referred to or are actually in the story) are Kishimoto's. The story needs polishing and I'd appreciate some constructive criticism. Enjoy!

I

It was a dark and stormy night. Well okay, it wasn't exactly stormy but it was still dark…as dark as a night can be with a half moon. Anyway, it was a somewhat dark and not so very stormy night, and the forest was alive with sound.

"Get him men! He can't have gone far!"

"Blasted werewolf, pretending to be one of us."

"Look there he is!"

"AARGGH!"

"…Oh sorry Shal. This old pitchfork couldn't have hurt you much could it?"

…And so on. But let's move to a different part of the forest, near the long dried up river and beyond the traders' paths. The river in this part of the forest used to flow right into the sea at one end and through a village at the other. People, being people, eventually dammed the former with silt and wastes best left unidentified. Now the village has abandoned this portion of the village and moved to higher ground, near the mountains where wells could be built to harness underground springs.

Here, we see the remains of a bridge and a dark hole just hidden beneath the skeletal planks. …And the eyes, just visible in the dim light as a figure emerged from its crouched position over the corpse of a rabbit.

It licked its fingers in a way peculiar minded people might consider extremely erotic- if it wasn't for the fangs peeking from inside its mouth, and if what it was licking wasn't blood. Let's shine a little moonlight here, shift the leaves of the trees to the side just so. There we go-

The figure is a man. He's shorter than any of the villagers we met earlier with a built deceivingly similar to a young man's. Now you're probably thinking 'Ah here's the villain or hero of the story. He must be either very charming or frightfully hideous. In fact, you're right. The charm he has is enough to send a signal to one's primal instincts to _run_.

Perhaps the smile and flush on his face wouldn't be as chilling if his eyes weren't rings of black and blood red.


	2. for every story told

II

The rabbits were a good find, he decided. Even though they had put up a surprising but inevitably losing fight, Gaara had drunk enough blood to keep him satiated for another week. At least, if he didn't meet another of those damn vampire hunters. It was really a waste of energy since Gaara had no intention of losing his life that easily. He couldn't imagine why said hunters were so eager to lose theirs.

Sometimes, being the only vampire left in this side of the mountains had its drawbacks.

He licked the last drop from his fingers before pausing to listen. The faint cries, crackles and stomps coming from the eastern side of the forest were getting nearer. 'A hunt?' he thought, 'There's no reason for them to hunt unless...' For a moment he considered the chances of one of his kin returning- abandoning the idea almost as fast as it came to him. No sane vampire would stay in this side of the mountains, or in the same country for that matter, while the trend for 'ridding the world of evil creatures' was still rampant. He was only here because…

Gaara shook his head as another one of his headaches started. Now wasn't the time to think about what already happened. It wasn't good to dwell on _it_ either. He clutched at his forehead until the pain subsided. At times like these he really wished he could kill his father if only to get justice for botching an already extremely dangerous curse, not to mention for casting it on him in the first place. When his head finally stopped throbbing, Gaara straightened up and brought his focus back on the present.

If there really was a hunt going on, then it might be a hunt for him. Maybe the villagers finally decided to continue the work of their forefathers or maybe they were simply tired of having a real reason to stay in at night. Whatever the reason, Gaara knew that they couldn't be hunting a mere deer. He drew the tattered charcoal gray cloak around him before leaping into the trees.

The humans need to be reminded just who the predator was.

'Mob' would be the last thing to call the motley group of people huddled together in a clearing. The apparent leader of the group was still dressed in his woodcutter's tunic and pants, having been convinced by those misleading tales about wolves eating grandmothers that only he could 'rid the village of the menace'.

Brandishing an axe and a torch, the burly woodcutter walked through the forest with the air of one who is doing a very stupid but noble deed- which no intelligent person would even think about doing. The rest of the villagers shuffled after him, near enough to assure their support but far enough to run for it if the hunters became the hunted.

Gaara watched them from his perch. One good thing about the relocation of the village was that this part of the forest thrived once the trees were left to grow without having the pre-destined future of lumber. With the density of the woods, there were many places for him to hide with a clear view of his surroundings.

He pondered over the indignant cries and muttered curses the humans were making as he followed their progress into even deeper wood. Apparently something had caused a commotion in the village and escaped into the forest. Something that was smart enough to be away from the area since he couldn't sense anything in the vicinity. A part of him was just a little disappointed that he wasn't the reason for their commotion while another part of him, a wilder and innate one was awakening in anger at the possible breach of his territory.

Deciding to deal with that later on, Gaara randomly picked one of the men then darted out of the shadows to haul him back into the trees in a series of hisses and pained cries. As expected, the rest of the men went into a flurry of thrown torches and arms flailing against each other. The terrified man he had in his arms croaked once as Gaara drained his blood.

He eased the man on the ground and licked his fingers clean. There, that would prevent any vampire hunt for another decade or so.

Gaara frowned. The blood he drank was metallic and salty, but for some reason it tasted different from the way he remembered it to be. Just a little bitter with an aftertaste of yeast. Before he could dwell on his observations, a loud cracking alerted him of another's presence behind him. He whirled around and hissed angrily, leaping into the trees with his eyes widening briefly in surprise at the figure before making him way back to his home in a sudden need to be somewhere familiar.

The furry man that had stepped into the clearing, now all by himself, blinked once then uttered a low mangled growl. "Rrrrwhat the herrrll?"


End file.
